Chapter 1 #2
I may have the house, the money, the car, and a great kid, but I don’t have her.
A car slowly drives by, reminding us that we’re in a parking lot.
“I should probably go. Connor’s at a friend’s having a sleepover, and I promised to meet someone for drinks.”
I tense. “Someone,” I mutter.
Clearly not quietly enough, as Elle chortles a sound. “Another mom from school. Lena, you know her.”
Rolling my eyes, I remind myself that I knew that. Connor makes it a point to tell me which single dads are swimming in close waters to Elle at school pickup, because even my kid tries to light fire under my ass.
I nod once. “Have fun then. I’ll text Connor later.”
“I know. You always do.”
Damn straight. Even when it was hockey season and I was traveling for games, I texted every day.
“My sister will pick him up for camp on Friday since I have a meeting,” I remind her.
“Is Violet excited to help out with camp?”
I grin to myself. My sister is in college studying business, so I offered her a summer job to do administration. “Excited may be a stretch, but she is appreciative, I think, and it will be good for her resume.”
“I bet. Just warn her that when she picks up Connor, I’ll be out back probably bawling my eyes out that he’s going to camp. You know how it goes.” She grins as she says that.
I scratch my cheek. “Yeah, I do.”
“Well, I should go. Text me if I need to pack anything special, I just figured you have the hockey equipment thing sorted out.” Her hands make gestures in the air because she seems unsure what to do.
I give her a little salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
She playfully swats me in passing, and I pretend to be hurt. But that’s us. Incredibly comfortable with each other.
I truly believe it’s because I’m her guy, and she won’t let anyone else have a slither of the connection that we have. She just doesn’t admit it.
I watch her for an extra second as she gets in her car to leave, very much aware that this feeling of wanting her is more apparent now because my life is changing. The rush of hockey is gone, which means that underlying feeling is louder than ever. I have no more distractions.
I also remember every day over the years how I wanted this to be our time.
Five minutes later, I’m on the road heading back to Lake Spark, the small town that most people find charming and quaint, but it’s been the backdrop to my life for every good and bad memory. Zach Bryan is playing on my stereo while, as per usual, Brielle lingers in my mind.
It’s so damn simple.
We haven’t been together since before Connor was born.
Then the first years with Connor, we were overwhelmed, or rather Brielle took the brunt of newborn life while I was off playing hockey, and by the time the baby years were gone, and Brielle was on her way with college, then that became the focus.
I was at the height of my career, and I barely saw them half of the year.
There were also those few years I played in Nashville, only to be traded back to Chicago.
It’s only in the last year or two that we found a pattern with Connor who’s no longer a baby and is fairly easy, but by then, the distance between Brielle and me had been created, except for… those moments.
God, those moments.
Always there but now more frequent.
She would take Connor to a few of my home games and watch me, and the times when we briefly talk after I drop Connor off, and I always swipe her hair behind her ear while her eyes sparkle in a way I swear is only for me.
We have been looming in the inevitable. I knew my days of playing hockey were numbered, and there were no more years of preparing for the Bar for Brielle.
Nothing is in our way except us.
I’m bursting, ready to snap.
Either I find some miracle to keep myself in line or this is where ten years in the making shatters and sends us in a new direction, one where I finally do something about us.
My car speaker informs me I have an incoming call, and I hit the button on my steering wheel.
“Hey, buddy,” I say, looking at the caller ID. My neighbor and friend Spencer is on the other end. “Shouldn’t you be throwing balls or something?” I tease him, as he’s a pitcher for the Chicago Bluelights.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I just wanted to check in on how it went. We know how you get after seeing Brielle, and I’m not around to offer you a beer since I have a game.”
I turn onto the next road. “The usual. Nothing is going to change. We made a promise, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”
Spencer scoffs a sound of disapproval. “You know you can’t avoid the obvious forever, right? I mean, hockey is no longer a roadblock, that’s for sure.”
I sigh. “It’s complicated.” I repeat this mantra on a daily basis, and now I’m telling Spencer.
“Doesn’t have to be.”
My jaw flexes, as I always tense when I think about the possibilities, partly because it feels so close. “We kind of dug ourselves a hole.”
“Then climb on out of it,” he urges.
I groan because I’ve been contemplating what I can do. We have seven and a half more years before Connor is eighteen, which means seven and a half years of limbo with his mother while we are responsible for his life as a minor.
We both see what we want, but we say nothing. What are we waiting for? The cards have changed.
My phone beeps, letting me know that someone else is trying call.
“As thrilling as this conversation is, I have someone else trying to reach me right now. I’ll call you later.”
He agrees, and I quickly answer the next call. I didn’t look at the screen, but as soon I hear the other voice say hello, I know it’s Margo.
“Hey, Margo.” She’s the closest thing to a grandmother I have, a close family friend who may have dated my grandfather before he passed, we’re not sure, but they were good friends and he was a widower.
She’s pushing her early eighties, and although mostly healthy, Illinois winters are too harsh for her arthritis, so she’s moving to Florida soon.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I smile because every conversation with her is upbeat.
“I ran into your neighbor the other day at the general store,” she begins.
“Which neighbor?”
“The sporty one.”
I laugh. “That doesn’t help, I live next to a football coach and a pitcher.”
“The one with a kid.”
“Again, not narrowing the field. Hudson has a baby and an adult son, and Spencer has a daughter a little younger than Connor.” I focus on the road although it’s mostly clear up ahead.
“With the young girlfriend or wife.”
Blowing out a breath, I chuckle. “Okay, we’re going in circles. They both have that, so my guess is that it’s Spencer, since April drags him to the grocery store at every chance since she’s into cooking.”
“Yes! He did mention recipes. Anyhow, he doesn’t hold it in, and we chatted about you and how you maybe need to rethink your priorities on a few things.”
“I’m sure you did.” No enthusiasm seeps through my tone.
“The thing is, I have my birthday coming up, and I have a small request.”
“I’m not sure what else you would want.” She lives a life where money is no issue.
Margo hums a sound. “Are you driving? You may want to pull over…”
And a few minutes later, it clicks how this really is my moment of opportunity.
Because I’m done waiting when it comes to Brielle.